Introduction to Will Power, Professor Kiril speaking

Why do I see the need to write about will power and my son? Because he is the embodiment of singular purpose and intent. Nothing proves that point more than Sunday night one week ago. It was 8pm, and it was time for him to go to bed. He is a big boy, so he no longer sleeps in a crib. My wife was thinking that the crib was causing Kiril to act out and not go to sleep until 9:30-10pm at night. Her thinking was he's a big boy and he was acting out to show he needed to be treated as a big boy. I was supportive, but secretly skeptical. So, she takes his crib apart (he helps) and takes it to the storage building. Big scenario, pictures were taken and everything. Fast forward to Sunday. We do the whole bed time routine:

• Get Kiril's belly full- Muscle Milk pudding, milk, banana, yogurt, whatever happens to trip his trigger (not all of that, he's not a piglet).
• Make Kiril go potty- here we assume that if we make him go potty, he won't be smart enough to hold onesies or twosies in reserve. There is a reason we do this.
• Brush teeth- brushing of teeth is one of the signals that we as a family are winding down for night night.
• Hug Mommy and Daddy- gotta give hugs, express love and affection. This will come up again.

So, we have done the routine. He is in his room, listening to his nighttime music. It is now 8:15pm or so. So begins another two and a half hours of his testing his will against ours. So he tries the following ploys:

• I want to hug you- we've already hugged, but depending on the time he hasn't seen us in the last 5-15 minutes and he has missed us terrible.
• I want to go potty- no luck on emptying the reserves. He manages at least two twosies, and a handful of onesies.
• I want milk- belly is still full, like tight as a drum full. But, drinking milk gives him another bite at the staying awake apple.
• I sick- not sure where he learned this, but I am not happy. But we give him Tylenol, to help him relax. Don't judge us, it's now 10pm.

It's been two hours, and threats of toy removal and spankings are not working. So, for the next 45 minutes to an hour, we proceed to step up our punishment and make good our promise. He wants to stay up, he stays up on my conditions. He was warned that the last time he got up, I would take away Thomas the Train toys. He got up, so I walked him into the living room and made him watch me break down a train track and load it and his trains and his cars into a bag and put on top of the fridge. I got his little chair, and made him sit in it as enforced time out. Every time he moved, I was going to take something away. He knew that. For the next 35 minutes (it takes awhile to break those tracks down), I watch him fight sleep as if he was scared to miss something vital like the digital clock changing time or Pizza Hut playing another commercial. He would yawn, and I would ask if it was time for bed. He always said "No sir". He was all but falling out of his chair asleep, but when I asked if it was time for bed, he always said "No sir". And he wasn't mean or ill. He wasn't cranky or surly. He was very polite and very sweet. Even when I caught him yawning and asked him if it was night night time, he said "No sir" and was sweet and precious to the point I had to laugh. He was not going to willingly go to bed. I could have stayed up with him until he fell out of the chair, and he would not have admitted to needing sleep. He wanted to stay up, because fun was were Mommy and Daddy were at.

And to stay up, he had to be singular of purpose and intent. He is only two and a half years old, so imagine that will power maturing for another 16-90+ years. Please send your prayers and well wishes, my wife and I may not be able to maintain dominance much longer.

My wife made me....

My wife made me make this post. I made the mistake of commenting on how lazy I have been this weekend (oh trust me, I have been lazy). So, here I am, pecking at the keyboard with my odd two finger typing style (middle finger of left hand, index finger of the right, Qwerty rolling and spinning in his grave). So, what to write about?

Laziness- well, I am in the midst of a battle royale with five other gentlemen to see who can hit their target weight by March 30th. In other words, I am working on a diet and exercise program that is world's apart from my Halodrol vacation (see other post, has a lot of references to brownies). So, I am eating a lot better (meaning less delicious) and working out twice a day (cardio in the morning on empty stomach, weight training at lunch). I have lost eleven pounds in two weeks, but I am tired. Hence, the laziness. Hell, I am yawning while I write this post. 8:30pm, and I am reading to go night night. Other tell tell signs of laziness were:

• Saturday, got up at 6am, back in bed by 9:30-10am, up again around 12:30pm, and didn't leave the house except to get groceries. Hey, all that napping, a man gets hungry, the kind of hungry not unlike lumberjacks experience after clearing an acre or two of trees. I'm sure it's the same kind of hunger.
• Sunday, got up at 6am (it's a Kiril thing, something about the early worm catching me drowsy), and I read a new book I recently acquired until about 11am, excluding breaks for trips to the potty (for myself and Kiril), occasional snack, and cleaning up whatever mess my son makes. Went to lunch, came back home, watched Wedding Crashers, and some football. Setting the world on fire I am.

What else is there to discuss? Nothing really, although I do think I need to tell the story of my son and his preparing for Navy Seal training... Scroll up, it'll be the post above this one.

My son is an impressive flirt

Yesterday my wife, my son and I made a trip out and about to run a few errands and in general get out of the house. Our first stop was to get my son a hair cut. He didn't flirt too much here, as his hair is very important to him (not really). He does tend to have a very serious look on his face when getting his hair done though, because he understands that that moment is not the time to be acting up. His hair stylist did a good job tightening up his hair do, and inadvertently gave him more ammunition to fire on the ladies with. This will come into play later in the afternoon.

We then proceed to a local mall for me to get some books (thanks for the gift card GiGi) and do a little browsing. I did stop in an Oakley store and bought another shirt similar to the ones given to me by JC. Thanks for the wardrobe hookup JC, I appreciate the friendly way you let me know I needed to inject some new blood into my look (3 free shirts is pretty nice and friendly).

My son was getting tired and hungry, so we took the clue and left the mall. My wife made mention she could eat too, so we commenced to prowling the surrounding area for a place to stop at. I made the comment that since she said she was real hungry, I let it be ladies choice where we ate. She choose On the Border (Mexican food, don't tell my Un-Fatty competitors). Now enters Chrystynn, a blonde waitress that my two year old became enchanted with. Maybe it was her appearance, maybe it was the way she refilled our water glasses, or maybe it was that she brought him french fries (we ordered them for him, go figure), but she was an enchantress to our son. It didn't matter that there was at least twenty years of time separating them, she was a girl with french fries and that's all my son cared about. That she also brought him ice cream (came with his meal) only further secured her place in his mind. He watched the kitchen for every move she made. Maybe it was to check that she was working on his order of ketchup, and maybe it wasn't, but he watched her perform here waitress duties as if she was a character from the movie Cars. And when we left, he gave her his patented "bye" that was sweet and innocent and flirtatious too. I think she felt as strongly for him as well. Or it was the tip I left, who knows. I mean, my son was serious about her and my wife and I laughed (in good fun) at how he was acting.

A few shout outs:

• tall blond waitress- don't feel bad that you were second best, there were plenty of other women there that didn't even register on my son's radar.
• medium height brunette- my son said he liked you too, but I think he was just being nice. You didn't bring french fries, if you had you might would have had a shot.
• dude with the funky hair- my son did say something about you, and it sounded a lot like "he should sue his hair stylist and go to mine". I agree with his assessment.

Thank you Chrystynn, BHazy's and my meal was even more fun than we had planned on. If you aren't doing anything in 16-19 years, look Kiril up. He did love the fries.

Hey, feel free to leave a comment.

I'm just saying, let me know you're out there. So far in 2 weeks, I have had 237 visitors, and I would like to hear from some of you as to how you found my little niche on the Internet. I am curious to hear feedback on my topics, suggestions on new topics, or your own private "innocuous rambling". I would like to know if my postings have put a smile on your face or shined a light on a new way to look at an old topic. Heck, I don't mind if you tell me you stop by to print off a few posts for reading material in the toilette (that's fancy french for the john). Tell me what has pissed you off today, and I'll find the silver lining. Or, I may show you how things could be worse. We'll look at this as a literary form of Russian Roulette: you never know what chamber causes a verbal diatribe of me abusing you for your self pity. Really though, I'm a nice guy, I mean it. I will be gentle...

Oh, by the way, my wife is a hottie and getting hotter every day. I would like to thank all those men that hold doors open for her or give her the right of way while she walks across a mall or Target parking lot, I'm glad to see chivalry is not dead. (this last post was written on behalf of my wife who jokingly wanted me to tell everyone how hot she is, and we all know there is an under current of truth to what women jokingly say they want. knowing this truth and being happily married for 9 years this March AND because I am not stupid, I have done as my wife has asked. oh, and she really is a hottie).